The boys have been napping in the sun.
The flowers are starting to open.
Brett is busy moving logs into piles, where they look nice and neat while waiting to be split.
We spread wood chips in the garden and then Brett mowed -- "Not in my garden," I told him. "The poppies are just starting to come up." (He's a bit over-zealous when it comes to mowing and weed whacking.) I try to tell him that this is a ranch, not a golf course, -- and he nods impatiently; fires up the ride-on mower, and off he goes.
There is still a lot of mud around, and the streams are running. It's early spring and this warm weather is just a teaser. Brett, who is normally a glass half empty kind of guy, told me that he thinks that the rain is gone for this year. I don't believe him. For once, I'm the pessimistic one.
But, today the air is full of birdsong and sunshine. Days like this are gold.